Collection: Alaala

This Lenten season, these eight artists come together not just to present works, but to offer quiet meditations—each piece carrying its own weight of sorrow, reflection, and hope. Their art does not demand attention loudly; instead, it invites stillness, asking the viewer to feel before they understand.

In Nelson Ricahuerta’s Untitled, there is a silence that feels heavy yet sacred. Without a declared title, the work becomes open—like a prayer without words. It mirrors the moments in Lent where language fails and only the heart continues speaking. The stillness in his canvas echoes the waiting, the in-between of suffering and redemption.

Elbert Caballero’s Doble Vista introduces a duality we often carry within ourselves—the seen and the unseen, the faithful and the doubting. Lent, after all, is a season of reflection, where we are confronted by both who we are and who we are called to be. His layered imagery feels like looking into a mirror that refuses to lie.

Jik Villanueva’s Risen, crafted in brass and wood, grounds resurrection in something tactile and enduring. There is strength in its material, but also warmth—reminding us that rising again is not just divine, but deeply human. It speaks of resilience shaped by fire and time.

Omi Reyes brings a raw narrative through Betrayal and Arrest and Iron Clad Sacrifice. These works do not shy away from pain; instead, they lean into it. You can almost feel the tension, the weight of choice, the inevitability of sacrifice. His pieces remind us that before resurrection comes surrender—something deeply personal and often unseen by others.

Richard Buxani’s sculptures, Corpus Christi and Risen Christ, give form to faith itself. In three dimensions, suffering and victory become tangible. The carved details hold both agony and grace, allowing the viewer to walk around the story, to witness it from every angle—just as faith is experienced differently by each soul.

JET CUNANAN’s 40 stands out with its unconventional materials—scrabble tiles and layered textures forming a quiet yet striking reflection on the forty days of Lent. It feels fragmented yet intentional, like our own journeys of discipline and reflection. Every piece seems placed with meaning, as if counting not just days, but struggles and small victories.

Christian Cueno offers two deeply emotional works. A Glimpse to Desolation, marked by the presence of a dove, feels like a fragile breath of hope in the middle of despair. Meanwhile, Mother and Child, Homage to Bouguereau softens the narrative, reminding us of love that endures beyond suffering—a quiet, maternal grace that holds everything together.

Finally, Nathaniel San Pedro’s Holy Face and Nuestro Padre Jesus Cautivo bring an intimate devotion. His works feel personal, almost like encountering faith up close. The gaze, the detail, the reverence—they draw you in, asking not just to be seen, but to be felt.

Together, these artists create more than an exhibition—they form a shared space of reflection. In their hands, Lent becomes not just a season, but a journey of the heart.

Written by 
Luna